He studied the picture. “I see a seventeen-year-old girl who’s trying to fit in, who is doing what probably half of the other girls there are doing. And this girl”—he held up the picture—“did not deserve what she got. She did not wave a sign that said, ‘Have your way with me even if I say no.’ ”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. “I know all that, and yet, seeing me…dammit, it made me doubt myself. I think this is why I’ve kept myself so closed ever since then. So unsensual, if that’s a word.”
His arms came around her, holding her tight. “You are so not unsensual, babe. Don’t doubt yourself. Yes, you were sexy, edgy, but I was a sixteen-year-old boy and I never thought you were a girl I could do whatever I wanted with.”
She sat back and wiped the moisture from her eyes.
He was still holding the picture. “If you look at your face, you can see that you weren’t happy. You’re looking off into the distance.”
“I was probably looking for you. Like that time at the pizza place, when you sauntered in and joined us. I was so happy. I felt guilty and awful, but something inside me lifted at the sight of you. I was myself when we played pinball together. I knew that if you showed up at that party I’d make up some excuse to talk to you like I did with the pinball. I felt like I belonged with you.”
He ran his thumb down her cheek. “You do.”
Those two words settled like a ball of warmth in her stomach. She did. From that first time they’d met. Now.
“Pax, you were right. I can’t heal until I forgive that part of myself. And to do that I have to make peace with my doubts.” She tore up the picture and let the pieces flutter to the ground.
He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb on her wrist. “Can you do that?”
“I’ll try.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the picture when you first got here?” he asked.
“I just felt so stupid and wrong, and, to be honest, I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t like seeing me like that.”
“Even though that girl is a part of you, you’re not that girl anymore. Does that make sense?”
She took it in. Nodded. “How did you get to be so wise? You’re a year younger than I am.”
“We all have our demons, sweetheart. Our fears. When we face them, we get a little older. A little wiser.” Before she could ask him what his demons were, he said, “I had to do that with facing the fact that my brother is a rapist. Even when we think we have our balance, we still get knocked on our asses sometimes.”
She thought she’d healed, but she’d only healed on the surface. She would have to yank off the scab and go all the way to the bone. To forgive that sexy, needy, reckless part of herself, and accept her. To trust her judgment that Pax was the man with whom to release it.
I do belong with him.
She glanced up. “You know, I never kissed a boy underneath the bleachers.”
All that tension and shadow left his expression as he picked up on the playful note in her voice. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. I’ve heard about this kissing-under-the-bleachers thing, but I never got to experience it.” She tossed him a challenging smile. “Care to indulge me?”
“I would care very much to indulge you, which doesn’t make sense now that I hear it, but the short answer is ‘Hell, yes.’ ”
She knew his kiss would be sweet and slow; she also knew that it could be much, much more if she gave him the signal. Sweet would work for now. But later, that naughty part of her whispered. Later, I want spicy.
Their mouths touched, and he captured her lower lip between his and nibbled softly. She opened her mouth and invited him in. He took her invitation, sweeping in just as he’d swept into her life, her heart. She met his tongue move for move, making love in a slightly more innocent way.
When she had to back up and catch her breath, she fell onto the grass with a sigh. “Sweet.”
He lay down next to her, and his fingers slid between hers. “A-stounding.”
“Why do you say it that way? Mind you, I think it’s cute. I just wondered.”
“That’s how I used to read all words that start with ‘a’ when I first learned. It kinda stuck. For instance, you are a-mazing, a-dorable, and achingly a-ttractive.”
“And you are d-licious, d-lightful, and d-ashing, Paxton Sullivan.”
She liked the feel of their linked hands, and especially the way he squeezed when she said that.
He chuckled. “Why, thank you.”
She looked up at the sky through the slats. “If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend I’m seventeen, at one of the school football games. I’m with you. I wasn’t stupid, and I didn’t care if you were a junior, God forbid”—she wrinkled her nose—“or a supposed troublemaker. I followed my heart.”
He squeezed her hand again. “I can hear the crowds now. Screaming, applause.”
“I think we made a touchdown, but who cares? I was never into football.”
“Me, either.” He shot her a smile. “I have better things to focus on.”
She sighed. “I wish we could go back in time. I want a redo.”
He pulled her hand to his mouth and planted a soft kiss on the back. “We can only go forward.”
Forward. She was ready to go forward.
“Have any dinner plans?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“We have the house to ourselves. Let’s have a candlelit dinner. I’ll pick up something at the store on the way home.”
“I’ll bring wine,” he said. “Any preferences?”
“Something with undertones of sweet with a romantic finish. To match how our evening’s going to end.”
Chapter 14
Gemma had the music on her phone jamming through her external speaker as she got ready for their date. It was a date, right?
“Ahh! Stop doubting yourself, Gemma!”
She was still in her robe, having spent the whole two minutes it took to dry her hair looking at her reflection. She fanned her fingers through the short strands. Maybe she’d let it grow out. And restore it to its original color.
She couldn’t go back in time, but she could finally integrate that splintered part of herself. She dropped the robe and picked up a black top with fluorescent pink ribbons that tied over the shoulders. As the dark pink rose on the front shed its petals, they became thorns. Maybe thorns could turn into petals in her life.
She still fit into the black leggings, which came to midcalf, terminating in a lace edge. It amazed her that they didn’t disintegrate. Her high-heeled boots were way higher than anything she’d worn in the years since. She practiced walking around in them as she continued getting ready.
She took a deep breath and faced the mirror. It was like seeing an old friend who’d cut her hair way too short. She came closer, pressing her hands to the glass, her nose an inch from it.
“Gemma, you did something stupid. You drank because someone kept pressing the cup into your hand. You pretended to be something you weren’t. You sold yourself out. But mostly you trusted the wrong person. You were a seventeen-year-old who thought she was mature. You made mistakes, but you were a good kid. I forgive you, you a-mazing, a-dorable girl.” She planted a kiss on the mirror, then spun around and reveled in the way her lacy miniskirt floated out. Reveled more in the feeling of wholeness inside.
Now she was smart. She wasn’t letting Pax get away this time.
The scent of steaks on the grill greeted her as she descended the stairs to the room that now looked more like a kitchen and less like a demolition project. She followed the scent through the den and spotted Pax out in the garden by the huge grill. Harley was wandering around with his nose in the air, catching the scent, no doubt. The sun hung low on the horizon, leaving plenty of light. Her heart did this hiccup thing at the sight of Pax, in new jeans and a white button-down shirt that set off his tanned skin. His hair curled over the top of his collar, r
uffled by the sea breeze. She lingered at the door, watching him.
The hunger growling through her had nothing to do with the steaks. How could a man be safe and not safe at the same time?
When she opened the door and stepped out onto the screened-in porch, she saw that he’d set the table. White linen tablecloth, the flowers he’d taken from their departed guests’ room in the center. Plates, silverware, napkins, and wine—all were at the ready.
With a grin, she pushed the porch door open and posed as he turned at the sound of the creak. He blinked and stepped back, as though some invisible person had hit him.
He blindly set the tongs on the side of the grill, not taking his gaze from her. “Well, well, well. Now I’m back in time, a hot summer night, the sounds of revving engines…and my racing heart.”
That makes two of us. She came down the steps—carefully, because tripping would totally ruin the moment—where he met her. She took his outstretched hand for the final steps. He drank her in like a man who had just crawled out of the desert.
“Seventeen-year-old Gemma and I made peace,” she said. “Besides, I thought I’d look better in this than you would.”
He laughed. “That you do.”
Their fingers were still linked, and hers reflexively tightened as she said, “I love that you would fight for me. For us. But you don’t have to fight. I want you by my side. I just…I just want you, Paxton.”
He tugged her closer, until their bodies were pressed together. He gathered her face in his rough hands and leaned down to claim her mouth. It was more than gentle, less than fierce. She appreciated that he was being careful with her. But she didn’t want careful now. She deepened the kiss, her fingers pressing into his upper back.
He took the signal, his kiss becoming more ardent, his hands sliding down her back all the way to the swell of her behind. She rocked against his erection, letting him know he could go lower. He squeezed her ass—slow, deep caresses.
“I bet the steaks would be just fine if we put them in the fridge for a bit,” she said.
“I imagine they’d be even better.” He turned off the heat and put the steaks on the platter. “Come on, boy,” he called to Harley.
The moment Pax set the steaks in the fridge she pulled him by the hand through the kitchen to the stairs. When they reached the living area, she turned to him and started unbuttoning his shirt. It was easier this time. She was ready, more than ready. Her mouth followed each button, kissing down the center of his chest. His skin was smooth and soft, his body all hard muscle. She left one last, lingering kiss on his navel after undoing the last button, then worked her way back up again.
“Don’t baby me,” she murmured against his skin.
He pinned her with his gaze. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. And tell me what you like, what feels good.”
“You’re doing just fine.”
“Don’t patronize me, okay? I know I’m not good at this.”
He drew his finger through her bangs. “You’re going to be a-mazing. Follow your fire, baby.”
That fire raced through her veins, heating her skin. Yes, she could do that. She pushed off his shirt and tossed it on the chair, then kissed up the column of his throat to his chin. He met her mouth, taking even more than he had last time. Kissing harder, faster.
She drew her hands down to the waistband of his jeans, pushing the metal button through the hole, unzipping him. She slid her hand beneath the waistband of his briefs and took him in her hand. He groaned right into the kiss.
She reveled in her power to make him respond. She rubbed her thumb over his velvety head, eliciting another soft groan. “I could touch you all night.”
“I would be absolutely fine with that.”
He was hers, to do with as she pleased. She loved that idea. Loved his body, and the way he was both tender and sensual.
Loved him.
The realization knocked her for a loop. In love, sure, but love? But how could she not love him? And what the hell was she going to do about it?
She didn’t want to think about the logistics, not right now. She released him and pushed the waistband of his jeans over his hips and down his legs. His red boxer briefs stood out against his tanned skin, and his cock stood out against the fabric of those briefs. He stepped out of the jeans and kicked them to the side.
“You could be an underwear model,” she said. “One of those giant men in Times Square.”
“There are giant men in underwear in Manhattan?”
She laughed at his mock shock. “Yep. And one regular-sized guy in a cowboy hat who walks around playing the guitar.” She ran her knee up the inside of his leg. “Undress me.”
“Gladly.”
He slid his fingers under the bottom hem of her shirt, tracing back and forth across her stomach before lifting it. Beneath, she wore the skimpiest bra she owned, though it still covered most of her. But by the way he took her in she might have been in a sheer lace one.
He stepped closer, his hand sliding up and down her back. Suddenly her bra popped free, and he caught it in one hand and tossed it on the couch. A moment of trepidation came and went, as his hands covered her breasts, caressing, loving.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, depositing her on the bed. His eyes flared as he took her in, reclined on her back, feet hanging off the edge. “Damn, you are beautiful. And sexy.” He knelt and unbuckled first one boot, then the other, running his hands over her feet after removing each one. “Even your feet are sexy.”
She laughed, at his words and at the tickling sensation of his kiss on each of her arches. He leaned over her, planting his mouth on her stomach while he hooked his fingers over the leggings at her hips then tugged them and her miniskirt down. He ran his thumbs up the insides of her thighs as he moved back up to her panties and eased them down, too. “Remember how good my fingers felt? My mouth is gonna feel a lot better.”
He started kissing her ankles, then the backs of her knees, then her inner thighs. He’d nearly imperceptibly spread her legs, anchoring her feet at the edge of the bed. He slid his hands under her ass to lift her. His mouth covered her, suffusing her with heat. And then his tongue flicked her.
She could barely say, “Yes. Oh, yes, much…better.”
He licked and sucked and explored. She could hardly breathe, could not speak at all. He inserted one finger inside her slick opening, and then another. Her fingers curled into the sheets as her hips bucked. Too much sensation. Too much pleasure. Too…too…a wave of pleasure shook her body. And he kept moving his tongue over her, through her, it seemed, and though she could barely handle it, she couldn’t—didn’t want to—tell him to stop. Another orgasm swept over her, and she cried out this time.
“One more?” he asked, flicking her nub with the tip of his tongue.
She thought she might implode. “No more,” she gasped. “I’ve heard of multiple orgasms, but I…never…never thought…” God, she couldn’t even finish the sentence.
He was laughing softly as he climbed up on the bed, hovering over her. “You can work up to three, four, however many you want. Hook your hands on my shoulders and wrap your legs around my waist.”
She obeyed, and he took her with him as he climbed to the head of the bed. “You need to be naked.” She pushed so that they rolled onto his back, with her straddling him. “Let me take care of that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pulled down his briefs, then let her eyes soak him in. Follow the fire. The heat swallowed her up, roared in her ears. She kissed his mouth, down the side of his neck, across his chest, trailing down over the ridges of his stomach, and then gave him the same kind of pleasure he’d just given her. She must have been doing it somewhat right. His breathing grew faster, his abs clenched, and his fingers kneaded her hair.
A few minutes later, he tightened his hold on her. “Oh, baby, I don’t think you’re ready for what happens if you keep doing that.”
“Mmm, well, I don’t want you to come just yet.” After dropping a kiss on his tip, she crawled up to face him. She couldn’t help smiling. Grinning like an idiot, really. “I’ve heard about this concept of making love. Care to indulge me?”
“Hell, yes.”
She leaned over to the drawer and pulled out a box of condoms. “I even bought these when I was at the store.”
“I think I love you,” he said, running his thumb over her chin.
She laughed nervously. “You’re just saying that because I bought condoms.”
He looked profoundly serious, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “I thought I was saying it that way, too, but when it came out, well, it hit me that I meant it.”
Her heart hitched at the words. She leaned down and kissed him. “I think I love you, too. Which I know is crazy because—”
“We haven’t really known each other that long,” he finished. “But I feel like I’ve known you—”
“Forever.” She laughed. “We’re even finishing each other’s sentences. Like Trey and—”
“Gary.”
Forever. The word reverberated in her mind as her gaze locked with Pax’s. It was too much to process, so she flung her arms over his shoulders and kissed him soundly. Then she reached to the box nearby and removed one of the condoms. He started to take it from her, but she pulled it back. “Tell me how. I want to do it.”
“Just roll it down over me.”
She tore open the pack, and he guided her hand as she did just that.
“Gemma, I want you to be on top, so you’ll be in control. Ease down at your own pace. Get a feel for me being inside you, and then you can keep going or I can take over.”
Him, inside her. That thought didn’t elicit panic, only a thrill that curled through her core. And gratitude that, even in this moment, he was making sure she felt safe.
He guided her onto him, allowing her to take her time easing him in. When he was fully inside, she had to catch her breath. She never imagined how good it could feel, having a man inside her. A man who loved her.
Falling Hard Page 21